Not Your Time
by susies-fandom-wonders
Summary: Descole is visited by familiars as he lay dying in the Azran Sanctuary.


Not Your Time

Descole couldn't keep the shout of pain from leaving him as he pushed Luke out of the way. The beam that had been directed towards the boy had struck the masked man instead, and his body was thrown a good distance away from the statue that should have been deactivated when he sliced it up with his sword. He rolled on the floor for a bit before stopping, and a hand made it's way to his side subconsciously.

He could hear the shouts from both Professor Layton and Luke Triton, the boy's voice panicked and high as he tried to process what had happened, the professor's soft voice cutting through the quick breathings of his apprentice. Descole grit his teeth as he moved to stand up. Through his blurred vision, he could see Luke's face contorted in pain and guilt, large tears rolling down his face.

"Descole!" The moment he managed to get on his feet, he crumpled to the floor again, the grip on his wound tightening. He wasn't sure how large or serious the wound was, but by the way the grey of his suit darkened into maroon more and more as each second passed, he knew it was severe enough that he would die before he accomplished his goal.

At the thought of that, Descole grit his teeth together again before attempting to stand once more. This time, however, he couldn't even make it to his feet before collapsing to the floor, his body twitching and shaking from the pain that overrode his body. Professor Layton was now in front of him, easing the man onto his back as he hissed. Descole's breaths came out heavy and labored, his heart going at what seemed to be a mile a minute. His body was drenched in sweat and blood, and his stomach rolled from the pain this wound brought him. He wasn't sure how, but this seemed much, much more severe than any type of injury he had gotten over the many years. He wasn't sure anything would ever top Ambrosia.

"Descole," the man turned his attention to the professor who kneeled next to him. Layton's mouth was set in a straight line, his eyes flashing with a whirlwind of confusion and worry. "Are you okay?"

"Save your concern, Layton." It hurt to do anything, the movement made with speaking sending another sharp pain through him. Descole knew that if he needed to tell Layton anything, now would be the last time. The last time with his brother. Descole couldn't help but smile at the thought. He could die and Layton wouldn't know any different.

Another spasm of pain made him gasp. He couldn't do that to his younger brother. He needed to know from him. He shuddered before speaking. "There's something I have to tell you." There. There was no going back now. Layton looked down at him again before speaking, his voice soft.

"What is it?" Descole clenched his eyes under his mask, trying to will the black veil that had started to blind his vision to go away. He needed to do this. He needed to.

"You were too young. You probably don't remember." Layton bit his lip.

"Remember what?"

"That day… after our parents were abducted." He heard the sharp intake of breath from Layton; the younger man's eyes wide.

"I don't understand." Descole could feel his body getting weaker. He took in a shuddering breath before speaking again.

"It was years ago… I'll never forget." The memory was appearing in his mind as he recounted it to his younger brother. The way the younger boy would follow him around as he packed the bags to send him away. "Our parents were gone, and we were left all alone." Layton was looking at him with intense concentration at this point. "We had a house to live in, but it was a sad and lonely time." Descole could see the other man give a soft nod, his lips turning downwards. "Then, one day, we were told that an adoption had been arranged, but only for one of us." Descole grimaced as he remembered his younger brother's face that day, how it pinched with anger and confusion as he had finished packing Hershel's suitcase.

 _But I don't want to go away!_

 _Don't be silly, you'll be living with the Layton family from now on._

 _But Hershel, I want to stay with you!_ Descole remembered shushing the boy with a small smile.

 _Don't call me that. Remember, that's your name now, Hershel._ He remembered the small, scared look Hershel gave him as he answered the door. He remembered Hershel's small fingers slipping from his as he was adopted by the Laytons. How he had stood in the doorway of the now empty household, how he had broken down on the steps once the car with his brother disappeared from view. Layton was looking at him with a devastated look.

"So you're…?" Descole nodded.

"You took my name… and went to the Layton family in my stead." The masked man looked over where he had seen Luke last. The boy was looking at him with pursed lips, his eyes large with fear. Layton spoke then, his voice softer than it had ever been.

"I remember now… Hershel was my brother's name, not mine." Layton bit his lip before continuing. "But why didn't you say something sooner?" Descole smirked at the question before wincing as he attempted to move.

"Why did I spend all my time getting in your way, you mean?" Layton looked away; Descole could see the tears welling in his younger brother's eyes.

"If you wish to put it like that."

"My goal was too important. I had to unlock the secrets of the Azran before Targent did." A small spark of rage swelled within him as he said the organization's name. Layton frowned.

"But why was it so important to you?" Descole grit his teeth before spitting out an explanation, his anger only growing.

"The Azran are to blame for what happened to us. We owe it all to that accursed civilization!" He clenched his eyes shut after that, he shouldn't have gotten angry, damn it, Descole, you're being stupid. You still have much to say. "Our father was an archaeologist who stumbled upon remnants of the Azran." He coughed; he could feel the blood at the back of his throat. He swallowed before continuing. "He discovered evidence of their legacy, and had just made a breakthrough when he and our mother were kidnapped." Descole could remember their father shouting and yelling at the men at the door. He was clutching Hershel in his arms then, the younger boy was terrified. Their mother was much more soft spoken with the men, though Descole only remembered her trying to comfort them.

"It was Targent who took them, of course. Back then, they were a small group… a cult, almost, obsessed with ancient civilizations." Descole could feel his voice getting weaker, starting to drift. He needed to finish this, fast. "As for us? Well, with our parents gone, we found ourselves alone." He coughed then; a small dribble of dark red blood seeped down the man's chin and into his white boa. "From that moment, I threw myself into archaeology. I knew I wanted revenge on my two enemies: Targent… and the Azran. I… wanted to get back at them for taking our parents from us, for ruining our lives…. If I could single-handedly gain the power of the Azran before Targent…." Descole paused, letting the sudden spike of pain dissolve somewhat before speaking again. "I would have my revenge." Layton paused, and Descole was ready to ask him his only question before pushing him forward. Layton spoke then.

"What happened to our parents after they were taken by Targent? Are they still alive?" Descole grimaced. Of course he would ask that.

"Our mother… died many years ago." Descole could see Layton's face fall as he said that. He continued, knowing what he was about to say would only bring more despair. "Our father was forced to work for Targent… for so long that he eventually lost sight of his true self… and became one of them." He could almost see the gears in Layton's mind turning. "He grew obsessed with the Azran… and began to use Targent's methods to further his goals." Descole watched as Layton's expression turned from puzzled to horrified in the span of a second.

"You don't mean…!" So Layton got it. He coughed again before continuing, his grip on his wound growing slack.

"Yes… it is as it sounds. Our father… is Leon Bronev." Layton looked away again.

"I can't believe it…." Descole couldn't take any more questions. He hissed as he grabbed Layton's hand and looked him in the eyes.

"Layton, I've failed." Saying the words only brought more emotions to the surface of Descole's mind. "It falls to you to stop our father before he sees this madness through." Layton looked at him with more emotion than Descole thought the younger man was capable of. A single tear slipped from the professor's eye.

"But if I leave you here, you --" Descole shook his head.

"What does it matter? If the power of the Azran is unleashed, we're all dead." Descole frowned. His death wouldn't matter in the long run anyways. There was almost no one left who truly cared about him, all of them had been killed or died long ago.

"You also understand the true nature of the Azran." It wasn't a question. Layton knew.

"Yes." Descole smiled, despite the circumstances. "You are not the only one who can solve a puzzle, you know." He couldn't die when they were still in the same room as him. "But enough of this! You must go now." Layton pursed his lips and nodded, before moving to stand.

"Alright. Rest now. We'll come back for you once it's over." Descole let go of Layton's jacket then, squeezing his eyes shut as he finished what he had needed to say, his breathing becoming shallow and quick as spasms overtook his body. He wanted to curl up, but the moment he tried, his side gave such an electric spike of pain Descole could see stars. His ears were ringing, his eyesight completely gone.

"Des." Descole gasped as he recognized the voice. "Des, honey, we're so proud of you."

"O --"

"Sh-h-h. Don't speak. Just rest now. Let me and Violet say what we need to." Descole could feel something moving along his head and taking the tricorn hat off, and he tensed. He relaxed, however, when a gentle hand began petting his hair. "Des, you stayed so strong when we left you all those years ago. You could have decided to join us at any moment, yet you didn't. You stayed strong, and tried to finish what you had started. I'm glad you made that decision." His wife gave a soft sigh. "I'm also proud of you for telling your brother what you needed to. It may have been very last minute, but you did it. He knows now. Des, please. Reconnect with him. Get to know him better." There were smaller hands grabbing at his now, and Des's vision cleared some to the point where he could see familiar colors and shapes.

"Papa, I love you." Des felt the warmth of tears beginning to trail down his face. Olivia spoke again.

"Des. I know this is a difficult request for me to make, but please. Go to your brother. It's not your time to join us yet." Descole found his voice then.

"I --"

"We can wait a bit longer, Papa. Uncle Hershel needs you." There were two soft pecks on his cheeks as his vision cleared.

Descole felt a surge of strength as his vision finally returned fully. He struggled to stand, the pain almost unbearable, but after several tries, he managed to stumble to his feet, using an arm to lean on the sanctuary walls as he hobbled his way towards the next room.

He needed to go. Hershel needed him.

And it wasn't his time.


End file.
